


Like Oxygen

by BekahRose



Series: Comment-Fic and Drabbles [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Addiction, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekahRose/pseuds/BekahRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mordred sells himself to feed his addiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Oxygen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sksdwrld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/gifts).



> Again, written for Comment_Fic over at LiveJournal, for the prompt: **Addiction**. M asked for "Merlin, Mordred/any male (suggest Gwaine, Arthur, Merlin), Mordred sells himself to feed his addiction."
> 
> I don't even know anymore, BB... But the muses would not go down the 'typical addiction' route like I wanted them to. Take it up with your boy. LoL.
> 
> Also, not your typical addiction...
> 
> \----

He needs it like he needs oxygen.

Strong hands grip his hips and pull him in closer and Mordred throws his head back, exposing his long, pale throat. Lips descend and begin to suck and nip at the tender flesh, drawing the blood to the surface.

“So, fucking hot,” a voice, rough with a hint of an Irish brogue brushes over his skin and Mordred positively beams when he feels the man’s facial hair dragging across his collarbone, leaving a pleasant burn in its wake.

Mordred drops to his knees before the guy can do more than run his large hands around the waist of skin-tight jeans. The generous roll of cash in his back pocket feels heavy and the knowledge of the high he’ll get when he’s had his fix, is secondary to the high he feels right now as he looks up through hooded eyes and meets the intense stare of … _Gwaine_ , his brain supplies, thankfully.

His fingers fumble over the zip and he can feel the start of a downward spiral that comes from not having had anything since yesterday morning. He closes his eyes and presses his face into Gwaine’s crotch in an attempt to pull his shit together.

He needs this trick and the rush it provides.

He needs his next fix. 

As he pulls the zipper down, he inhales the heady scent of sex and sweat and desire and he smirks; slow and lazy, his tongue sneaks out to wet his lips and brushes the tip of Gwaine’s cock. 

The first taste, bursting across his tongue is enough to stop his hands trembling and his smirk evolves into a wide grin. The salty taste of precome soothes his nerves and he becomes bold as the high takes hold. It’s been a whole day and he doesn’t care if it makes him some kind of slut, it is better than pumping his veins full of shit to eventually die in a back alley gutter somewhere.

He needs this like he needs oxygen.

_~Fin~_


End file.
